don't ever give up on yourself
**There's Potential in Us All**
In the hushed whispers of dawn,
when the first light spills golden over the earth,
our hearts stir with the promise of the day,
for within each soul resides a spark,
an ember of possibility waiting to ignite.
Look around—
the trees standing firm against the winter's breath,
the rivers carving their timeless paths,
and the mountains that cradle the sky,
each a testament to resilience,
each a keeper of ancient stories.
So too, we carry within us
the ability to rise, to soar,
to reach ever beyond our limits,
woven together in a tapestry of dreams.
God, the architect of hope,
guides our trembling hands and restless minds,
carving potential from the clay of our existence,
molding dreams as vast as the horizon,
and planting seeds of courage in fertile hearts.
It is said: when we align our will with the divine,
mountains can tremble, rivers can shift,
and the cosmos can rearrange itself
to echo our deepest desires.
Yet, potential does not whisper;
it sings a chorus in the silence of doubt,
a clarion call to rise from the ashes
of yesterday's shadows,
to...
In the hushed whispers of dawn,
when the first light spills golden over the earth,
our hearts stir with the promise of the day,
for within each soul resides a spark,
an ember of possibility waiting to ignite.
Look around—
the trees standing firm against the winter's breath,
the rivers carving their timeless paths,
and the mountains that cradle the sky,
each a testament to resilience,
each a keeper of ancient stories.
So too, we carry within us
the ability to rise, to soar,
to reach ever beyond our limits,
woven together in a tapestry of dreams.
God, the architect of hope,
guides our trembling hands and restless minds,
carving potential from the clay of our existence,
molding dreams as vast as the horizon,
and planting seeds of courage in fertile hearts.
It is said: when we align our will with the divine,
mountains can tremble, rivers can shift,
and the cosmos can rearrange itself
to echo our deepest desires.
Yet, potential does not whisper;
it sings a chorus in the silence of doubt,
a clarion call to rise from the ashes
of yesterday's shadows,
to...